


Please Respond Promptly

by Gleefullymacabre



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:56:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gleefullymacabre/pseuds/Gleefullymacabre
Summary: A holding area for Tumblr prompt fills.





	1. Fight me

**Author's Note:**

> capriciouslyterminal asked:  
> For the character ask thing, maybe Butterfly Bog and "Fight me" (It sounds pretty fun :D)

“Why are we bribing people to come to the wedding?”

“For the last time, it’s not a bribe, it’s a gift. To thank people for coming.”

“Isn’t that what the thank you notes are for?”

Marianne slammed her hands on the table, scattering swatches and samples to the floor. “‘We can’t elope’, you said. ‘Mom would never let me hear the end of it,’ you said. If we have to have a wedding, we’re going to do it right. So stop whining and pick a color!”


	2. Get Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ankewehner asked:  
> “Get Me” for Buzzed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (one character saving another)

She kept her arm linked with his. Her wings, she explained in the buzz of her mother-tongue, were undersized and not suitable for flying very far or high. Not caring for heights himself, Roland suggested a stroll while they sought out his missing squirrel.

“I never did catch yer name, Darlin’,” he began, only to be interrupted by a growling hiss echoed by the buzz of wings.

A trio of oversized sprites landed heavily before them, wings folding onto their hunched backs. Roland shoved his newfound love behind him, away from the pincer-like fangs that snapped and clicked at them.

Roland hated any confrontation worse than one-against-one (preferably 3-against-1, weighted in his favor), but his love could never out-fly these creatures, and this heady pink haze would not allow him to abandon her now. Maybe ever.

He pulled a dagger from his armored boot, mentally chided his ex for taking his sword, and braced himself for the attack.

His love darted out from behind him, claws gesturing broadly and chittering too fast for him to follow. Fortunately, the words seemed intended for the monsters. The one in the center buzzed back, a deep and grotesque sound that shifted its mouth antennae. Roland watched them, bemused. Whatever she said seemed to be working, but how odd she looked, communicating with a beast four-times her size.

At last, she returned to Roland’s arm and spoke, slowing her words so he could understand.

“This. Is. My. Father.”

She introduced the other two hulking creatures– a brother and an aunt – as he processed this impossible information. But when he looked closely, he could see the resemblance. The fierce pincers were mirrored in her tiny fangs. His whiplike antenna matched her silky strands. Even their wings matched in shape and color, if not size. In every detail, she was the image of her parent as an exquisite miniature.

“Awful sorry ‘bout the misunderstanding.” Roland tucked the dagger away and stuck out his hand for a shake. “Sir Roland of the Light Fields, current fugitive of the Fairy Kingdom and probably the forest as well, and yer future son-in-law.” He pasted on his most winning smile and waited to be welcomed into the family.

The creature hissed at him before taking off, the other two close behind. His love had her claws pressed between her eyes as though she had a migraine.

“Don’t worry, Darlin’. I’m sure I’ll learn to like 'em.”


	3. Clearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompt: Autumn Fic Meme 34 Knitting a Scarf with Buzzed (roland/twig)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Human AU, not Love Letters.

The R train rattled toward Manhattan as Kendi attached the final fringe to her scarf.  The warm woolen yarn had been a steal at the price, though still a splurge on her meager income.  Still, the ratty polyester she wore around her neck did not offer much protection from New England’s chill.  And she had not really missed the dollars since Spring, when she found the dull olive skeins in the clearance bin.

 

The sunlight against the windows made a decent reflection. While the subway car rolled over the river, Kendi took advantage of the space to switch brown for green around her throat.  The coils of her hair were already pinned up and out of the way allowing her to unwrap one and replace it with the other. While not the prettiest thing, the scarf felt cloud-soft against her neck.  The length allowed it to be wrapped several times, but for late October, one layer was enough.  With her new scarf and the oversized peacoat from a thrift store, the next few months would be much more comfortable.

 

She tucked the old scarf into her oversized bag and exited the subway at Lexington, just in time for her date.

 

Roland stood by the subway exit across from Bloomingdales looking perfect, as always.  His charcoal overcoat had been left open enough to display the emerald tie in a pristine Windsor knot.  His grey leather shoes matched his trousers and looked freshly polished. Every breeze tousled his hair dramatically only to fall back in place. Kendi felt as glamourous as a bag-lady next to Roland’s tailored outfits, but he clearly saw beyond appearances.  Why else would he have waited outside her job all day to ask her out?  While not quite love at first sight, he claimed to have taken one look and wanted to get to know her better.

 

“Hey there, darlin’,” he drawled, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

 

“Hi… Are you okay? You look cold.”  He felt cold, too, his lips icy against her cool cheek.

 

“Now that you’re here, I’ll warm up in no time.” His flirtatious grin did not distract her from the way he shivered at a gust of wind.  At second glance, his overcoat was made to show off his form, not for warmth.  And he left his neck exposed to the elements. 

 

“Don’t you have a scarf?” Kendi asked as he led her down the street the bistro he had suggested.

 

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted with a flash of irritation.

 

Kendi hesitated until they reached an intersection where the wind blew even colder.  She stopped and unwrapped her newly-finished scarf and wound it around his neck.  “There, you’ll be much warmer now.” She smiled up at him, ignoring his startled expression.  “It’s even your favorite color.”

 

“It is?”  He lifted one fringed end. “Um, of course it is!  You… really shouldn’t have.”

 

Kendi put on her old scarf.  She could survive one more winter with it. Maybe she could find affordable yarn again in the Spring.

*     *     *     *     *

Wind blew Roland into the boutique.

The lumpy thing around his neck protected his voice from the cold, he had to admit.  After seeing the girl to the subway ( _Honestly, who uses the subway in New York?_ ), Roland backtracked to a likely location to find a scarf that was less of an eyesore. He could swing by her workplace to return the one she had provided.

 

Roland smirked to his reflection in one of the store’s mirrors.  It would have the added benefit of forcing Marianne to see him again.  What better way to prove he had turned over a new leaf than by dating one of her own employees?  A mere waitress at that.  Maybe he could sweeten his image further by including a small bouquet or box of candy. No use spending too much on a girl clearly not used to a lavish lifestyle.

 

He scanned the selection of mufflers for something that would not make him look like a hipster ( _Don’t these things come in any pattern besides plaid?)_ when his eyes passed the clearance table.  Any other time, he would not touch a discounted item. Anything imperfect or off-season had no place on his person. But he could not stop looking at a scarf…

 

A half dozen shades of purple and brown spun in a dizzying paisley pattern that reminded him of… something.  He touched the fabric without realizing he had moved.  Silk, definitely.  Light enough for a mild autumn, but long enough for a harsh winter.  Matching one gift for another would surely reflect better on him.  Returning something handmade might be cruel. And it would look stunning against smooth, dark skin…

 

“May I help you, sir?” a smiling clerk interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Uh, yeah… Do you do gift wrapping?”


	4. Pumpkin Patch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn and Sunny at a pumpkin patch

“This one! It’s perfect!”

Sunny sized up the wooden structure, the orange painted boards creating a large hollow pumpkin in the center of the field. “I don’t think that’ll fit in my truck. Or the apartment.”

“Killjoy,” Dawn teased. She stepped lightly over a hay barrel to continue her search. Sunny trailed after her, guiding a wheelbarrow along the actual path.

The pumpkin patch stretched several acres in all directions, the Pumpkin House marking the center of the field. They passed pile after pile of pumpkins and squash of every size, shape, and color, but Dawn had her eye out for something specific.

“It’s got to be huge,” she muttered for the eightieth time. “Big enough for all the detail. Why did I decide to do the boat scene from Harry Potter?”

“You could always do something else,” Sunny suggested, relieved they had gone through the corn maze first.

“Why would I do that?”

He shrugged and lowered the wheelbarrow to rest on the ground while Dawn examined a new pile of gourds. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his parka, the fingerless work gloves that protected hands from callouses not much use against the brisk October day, and watched Dawn flit around the field. 

Sunny stopped himself from asking again if she was warm enough in just an oversized gray sweater that fell over her hands and down to mid-thigh. She insisted it was heavy enough for the chill. Still, she stood out among the warm fall colors. Her blue scarf fluttered in the occasional breeze. Blue camo tights skimmed her legs to a pair of incongruous hiking boots. A black belt cinched the sweater, creating a makeshift dress.

She hopped bales of hay to another structure, this one a simple three-sided cube housing an inflated ghost waiting to pose for selfies with random passersby. The walls were created by tall, heavy bookshelves repurposed for displaying row upon row of pumpkins and to create a backdrop for the ghost. The wheelbarrow squeaked as Sunny maneuvered around the piles of straw, loose pieces crunching beneath his sneakers. Dawn disappeared around a corner. He picked up the pace when he heard Dawn crow in triumph. “I found it! It’s perfect.”

Rounding the corner, the wheelbarrow dropped with a thunk, Sunny’s hands numb in terror. “Dawn, get down from there!”

She had clambered to the top of three hay bales stacked one on top of the other. On her toes, she inched an enormous orange pumpkin from the top shelf. “I can get it.” The pumpkin shifted another centimeter. So did the hay.

He placed himself behind her in a feeble hope he could catch either her or the gourd before she got hurt. “Dawn, seriously, we’ll find someone to get it for you. Someone with a ladder.”

“I can take care of myself,” she insisted, the straw rocking under her feet.

“I know you can.” His voice went high as he moved to support her. He stopped his hands before they reached her hips. “They have professionals for a reason!”

“No use now! I’ve nearly got it.”

Sunny’s curse was cut short when Dawn fell back, her slight mass weighed down by the massive pumpkin that fell with her. He tried to brace his legs, hoping his lower center of gravity would be enough to halt the downfall, but the combined weight of Dawn and her prize threw his squat form back easier than he would like to admit. The topmost hay bale fell to the ground and burst upon impact. Likewise, Sunny, Dawn, and the pumpkin toppled into a convenient pile of straw.

Sunny pride his eyes open – they had closed when Dawn’s back crushed his nose. His heart was racing from adrenaline, and a bit from being pressed neck to knees against his best friend. Her body quivered with giggles sending sparks through his nerves and down his spine. “Are you okay?” he asked, choosing to blame the breathless tone on fear.

Dawn lifted her head from his chest, unconsciously brushing her downy hair against his face and forcing sweet perfume into his lungs. Dancing blue eyes met his. “I could have gotten it.”

He matched her grin with his own. “Clearly. Did it survive?”

Her eyes flew wide. “Oh no!” She scrambled up to straddle his lap. Sunny remained still and forced pure thoughts. “Wow. I think it’s okay.”

The pumpkin had landed in a neighboring pile of hay, but rolled out of the way. It sat upside down but unharmed against the wheelbarrow.

“I guess it’s destiny,” Sunny quipped. 

“Guess so.” Dawn used Sunny’s chest to leverage herself to a standing position. Sunny dragged himself up after her and brushed straw from his jeans as she knelt to examine her perfect canvas.

“Not a scratch,” she declared, then started to lift the oversized thing. Sunny scrambled to help. She might have been able to lift the pumpkin into the wheelbarrow, but he, at least, was not going to take that chance.

* ~ * ~ *

They added a few smaller pumpkins as they strolled to the entrance, tucking them around the massive squash they had found. Several smaller pumpkins – “For the boats, of course” -- and a strangely shaped white squash Sunny thought he could carve into a passable possum joined the Great Pumpkin, as they began calling it. 

Dawn insisted on paying. “You saved me from death by pumpkin, right? It’s the least I could do.” Sunny rolled his eyes and wheeled their purchases to his truck while Dawn dropped her change into the tip jar. She jogged to the vehicle, reaching it in time to help Sunny lift the Great Pumpkin into the bed. They tucked heavy blankets around it as cushioning for the journey home. “They’re going to have bonfires,” she offered. “And a hay ride.”

“Haven’t you had enough excitement for today?” Sunny dropped to the ground and offered his hand to help her down.

She grinned at him, sliding down without assistance. “Nope.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh and slammed the tailgate closed. “Okay, bonfires and hay ride it is.”

“And candied apples.”

“And candied apples,” he agreed, a cool gust of wind brushing her scarf against his cheek.


End file.
